


Whatever Stakes You Want

by nisakomi



Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Docking, Fisting, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Multi, Rimming, Strip Poker, there is no svt only 96line
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:16:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5451419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nisakomi/pseuds/nisakomi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started with poker night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whatever Stakes You Want

**Author's Note:**

> Alternatively titled: suspend your disbelief and your underwear while you're at it~ A game, porn, and feelings. Not necessarily in that order.
> 
> This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are fictional representations that do not reflect reality. Please be aware of the tags!

Soonyoung creeps down the hallway on his toes, pressed as close to the wall as possible, all the while making no noise. 

“What are you doing?” 

Soonyoung’s hand goes to his chest and his shoulders jump when he hears Wonwoo’s voice, but he manages not to scream from surprise. He immediately flattens Wonwoo against the wall and covers his mouth with one hand. 

“Shh!” 

Wonwoo blinks at him in alarm, but doesn’t try to say anything, so Soonyoung lifts his hand and returns to sneaking towards the bathroom. 

For the past few weeks, every Friday after their group meeting, Seungcheol, Junghan, and Jisoo had snuck off somewhere together while everyone else made their way to bed. Soonyoung didn’t know exactly how long it had been going on, but it had taken him those few weeks to figure out _where_ they headed. He had made sure that all of three of them had seen him head to bed before taking on the present spy mission to find out _what_ they were doing.

He gets to the edge of the door, and presses an ear as close to the doorframe as he dares, listening closely to the shuffling sounds from just inside. 

There’s a giggle, and then Junghan-hyung is speaking. “Straight!” 

Seungcheol-hyung’s voice is next, calling out “pair of sixes,” rather sadly. 

Soonyoung hears a sigh, and a rustling of clothes. “High card, one ace.” It’s Jisoo-hyung. 

“Yeahhh!” There's the sound of someone being smacked and the cheer quietens. 

“Shut up, you're going to get us caught,” Junghan whispers. 

“It's okay, the kids are all asleep. Anyway, deal the next hand.”

Poker. The ’95 hyung-line was hosting weekly poker nights for themselves.

Armed with this information, Soonyoung whirls on Wonwoo, who's been craning his head to listen in with Soonyoung, but has had his ear too far away to understand what was going on. Soonyoung grabs Wonwoo's face with both hands, shakes his head back and forth, and silently screams at him. Wonwoo's eyes are opened even wider at this treatment, but he stays quiet while Soonyoung leads him back to where the others are sleeping. 

“What did you see?” Wonwoo whispers quietly, once Soonyoung lets go out of his wrist. 

“Something amazing. We need to find Junnie and Jihoonie.” Soonyoung's eyes narrow and his mouth develops into a smirk. “This calls for a meeting of our own.” He taps his chin slowly and nods to himself. “Tuesday night. Make up an excuse to stay late at the company. We'll meet in Jihoonie's studio once everyone else is gone.”

Still confused, Wonwoo nods quietly. 

***

Wonwoo looks thoughtful once Soonyoung explains what he found, but doesn't offer anything. Strangely enough, the person who has the strongest reaction is Jihoon. 

“What?” he complains, smacking the toy he's holding on his lap. “Why weren’t we invited?”

“I would have thought you’d hate that kind of thing.” Soonyoung shrugs. “Well, anyway we can just start our own ’96-line poker night, can’t we?”

“Isn’t that copying them?” Jihoon's scandalized face is covered by the face of the giant stuffed animal. Only his eyebrows, drawn together, are visible to Soonyoung from the chair across from him. 

Junhui isn't mentally with the rest of them yet. He's standing with his back against the door and his arms crossed over his chest. “I've never played poker with anyone before.”

Soonyoung gives him a puzzled look. “This is getting really weird. First, I would have thought Jihoonie would be totally blasé about the whole thing. I also thought Junhui would be super into it. What did you play as a kid when you were bored?”

“I didn’t play, I worked,” Junhui says. He uncrosses his arms and places his hands on his hips. 

“...Right, I forgot while all of us were crawling around clutching at our mother's legs for food, you were already making bank to put food on the table.”

Junhui raises an eyebrow and smirks at Soonyoung.

“Anyway, we’re improving on an existing model. That’s why we’re in Jihoonie’s studio instead of that gross damp bathroom. See? We’re smarter than them. We're also not going to choose an obvious time to be away like Friday night. That's like, when everyone parties.”

“Because our schedules are so regular,” Jihoon says sarcastically.

“Shut up, I'm not finished. As I was saying, we can teach Junhui as we go, it's not that hard to pick up.” 

Wonwoo blinks at him blankly. 

Soonyoung whines, and tugs on Wonwoo’s sleeve. “Come on, even Jihoon is excited about this. He's never excited about anything.” He shoots him the best cutesy face he can manage.

Wonwoo takes the knuckle in between his teeth out of his mouth and relents. “Okay, okay, I got it, stop doing that it's uncomfortable,” he says, laughing. 

Jihoon bounces the bear in his lap. “Sooo...What will the stakes be?”

“We should bet steak dinners, obviously.” Wonwoo jokes.

Junhui blinks at him expectantly. 

“In English steaks and stakes?” Nobody laughs. He sighs. “Whatever. What were the hyungs' stakes?”

Soonyoung shrugs. “You were with me, the door was closed and I couldn't see anything.”

Junhui looks between all of them, again without any suggestions. 

Jihoon strokes his chin thoughtfully, shakes his head, and continues bouncing in his seat. “Well, we can’t wager money.”

“Wait why not?” Wonwoo asks, frowning. His question is buried under Jihoon's second and much louder suggestion. “We can gamble food!”

Junhui shakes his head vehemently. “No way. I'm not going to be conned out of my snacks for being a beginner. Try again.”

“Aw, Junhui-ya, I'd share my vegetable crackers with you if you lost all your gummy candies,” Wonwoo offers. Junhui glares at him without anger.

“Line distributions?” Jihoon tries again, with a cheeky grin. 

Soonyoung cuffs him on the ear. “Don't start, and don't try. For all we know, Wonwoo-goon's a shark at this and we'll end up with a title song that's just him talking in a low voice and then rapping in a low voice and then singing in a slightly less low voice.”

Junhui looks at Jihoon and Soonyoung with confusion. “How come you never get hurt when you push Jihoon, but I'm always attacked if I so much as accidentally poke him in the arm?” 

Jihoon ignores the question. “You're right, it can't be something that the others can see. But we can do small things, like, say you're the person who gets the last bit of toothpaste, you have to give it to someone else? Or like give up your turn in the shower? The front seat in the car?” 

Wonwoo shakes his head, gnawing on his upper lip. “Someone's bound to notice something like that, and using the excuse 'Oh, I just lost a bet' would only work for so long even if it were technically true.” 

Junhui kicks the back of Soonyoung's chair, pushing him forward with his toes. “You've been sitting on this information for a while, surely you've thought about the question.”

Soonyoung grins at him. He pauses for dramatic effect, before revealing his grand idea. “The answer’s obvious, isn’t it? Strip poker!” 

“No way!” Jihoon screeches. Wonwoo frowns a little, while Junhui tries to understand what just happened. 

“It would stay between us, and it wouldn't cost us anything except temporary embarrassment. We're all men, aren't we? Real men can play strip poker without losing their pride.”

Jihoon's grip on the stuffed animal is tight enough to choke a human being to death. His head shakes are fervent enough that his pink hair flies around his head. The glare he sends Soonyoung is sharp enough to shatter a rock.

Soonyoung is undeterred. “Why not? It's nothing we haven't seen before and it'd be fun. You were the one who was all excited about this idea. Please Jihoonie?” 

Jihoon's upturned nose drops a centimetre and he peers at Soonyoung. “Because it's super weird.” 

“What's the point of finally becoming adults if we can't do any grown-up things? Can't drink because we're idols, can't date girls because we're idols, can't even take time out of our schedules to finally learn how to drive because we’re idols. The one thing we can do is gamble between us privately.” 

Junhui slowly shifts his weight off the wall and over his feet. He swings his arms and quietly mumbles, “Actually, Soonyoung's idea sounds kind of fun. And maybe it would help us get closer to each other.” He shrugs and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

Wonwoo watches Soonyoung beam at Junhui while nibbling on the sleeve of his sweater. He raises the other hand hand to scratch gently behind his ear and tilts his head to the side.

Jihoon swivels around in circles on his chair with indecision. Every time he looks like he's going to open his mouth and say something, Soonyoung gives him another hopeful look, only to deflate again when Jihoon closes his mouth and spins around again. There's quiet for a while where even the ticking of the clock can barely be heard, as if the room was in as much anticipation as Soonyoung. 

Finally, Jihoon says, “Well, that's not... _un_ true.” 

Soonyoung takes this for the acquiescence it is. “Asa!”

He's completely equipped already, and pulls out a deck of cards from his pocket. 

“Wait, wha—“ Jihoon protests, “We can't just start now, what if you've prepared for this and are wearing six shirts underneath that?”

“I didn't! Obviously, I didn’t. I can't believe you trust me so little. Do you want to check for yourself?” Soonyoung leans forward and bats his eyelashes.

“What? No!” Jihoon pushes Soonyoung away, and Soonyoung laughs even as he loses his balance. He smoothly uses this as a chance to slide onto the floor, and pats the ground beside him as an indication for Junhui and Wonwoo to sit down. 

“Why couldn't we just use poker chips?” Wonwoo says to the ground morosely, as he lowers himself. He holds onto his knees in a cross-legged position.

“Do you own poker chips?” Soonyoung asks him with a critical eye.

“No?” 

“There you go,” Soonyoung says, and turns his head so quickly his hair flips. “Well, we'd better start showing Junhui the rules. Five card draw? Call your bet at the beginning of each round? Lowest hand strips?” 

Junhui turns his head to look at him, eyes unblinking. “You've _really_ thought about this already, haven't you?”

Soonyoung doesn't reply, just grins so wide his eyes fold into half moons, and slings an arm around Jihoon's shoulder. “Jihoonie, wanna explain poker hands?”

Jihoon shrugs Soonyoung's shoulder off and elbows him for good measure, but does explain things with patience.

After learning what a flush, straight, and full house are, Junhui rubs his hands with glee. “So this is more a game of luck than a game of skill?” 

“Well, no, I mean you'll have to strategize what to go for, like, it's one thing in poker to try to get a winning hand but if we're just trying to avoid being lowest you might—” The rest of what Jihoon has to say is muffled by Soonyoung's hand covering his mouth.

“Ehhhh, don't give him tips, let him figure it out on his own.” 

Junhui sticks his tongue out at Soonyoung, and pouts when all he gets is a sly smile in return. 

“We'll do a warm up round. I'll call my armband, and we can do belts and bracelets and stuff. See? I can be nice.” Soonyoung sends Junhui a wink that Junhui pretends to catch and eat. 

Jihoon finishes shuffling and dealing the cards, looks at his own hand, and says, “My right shoe.” 

“Ehhh, if you're going to call shoes or socks you should do both. One shoe at a time means we'll be here for ages until someone gets naked.”

“Oh is that the goal?” Jihoon asks, smacking Soonyoung on the head. “If you wanted to see us naked you should have just waited in the bathroom, stupid.”

Soonyoung dodges the next series of violent attacks and laughs. He waggles his eyebrows and Jihoon also bursts into laughter, punching Soonyoung in the leg as he's at it. 

“Fine, both shoes.” 

“My hat,” Wonwoo says, with some worry. He looks up at it and fiddles with the brim, trying to get it to sit right on his bangs. He gives up after a while since he doesn’t have a mirror, and he shoves his knuckles back into his mouth, biting them as waits. 

“My vest, I guess,” Junhui offers. 

Wonwoo chooses to replace two cards, and Soonyoung gets rid of three. Junhui holds onto his hand without thinking very long, but Jihoon takes a while to deliberate whether or not to get rid of two of his cards, ultimately deciding to keep them.

When they show, Soonyoung easily slides off his armband without fuss. 

“See? Easy,” he declares. 

“Kwon Soonyoung, when you'd get so cool?” Jihoon teases, hand around his triceps. Soonyoung just nods, and shuffles for the next hand. 

“Same bets as last time,” Jihoon announces.

Wonwoo nods in agreement.

“I'll do shoes too then,” Soonyoung says. 

Junhui scrunches his nose, gives his head a single shake, and looks at his hand sideways. He frowns, tilts his head the other way, and slowly says, “My...belt?” He doesn’t seem particularly pleased with this decision. 

Jihoon, Soonyoung, and Wonwoo smirk while look at each other a Junhui continues to squint at his cards with confusion. 

“You know what, it's not fun if we keep the stakes so low. I'll go with my jacket,” Soonyoung says. 

Wonwoo claps his hands while laughing and then flicks off his own hat with gusto. “I'll up the ante too. My sweater.” 

Jihoon grins and complains again. “Yah, your blank expression is so perfect for a poker face it's practically cheating. You’re going to end up being the only one who can keep your shirt on.” He doesn't change his wager, although he swaps out some of his cards. None of Soonyoung, Wonwoo, or Junhui do anything. 

“Two pair,” Jihoon declares, throwing his cards down. 

“Three twos,” Soonyoung says, smirking. 

“Ah, two jacks.” 

All three of them turn to look at Junhui with matching grins, ready to teach him a lesson about poker faces.

Junhui flips over a four of clubs, a four of hearts, an eight of hearts, an eight of diamonds, and eight of spades. “I can't remember what you said this was called...was it...a flush?” Junhui asked, finally looking up to meet their eyes with his lips pulled into a small frown and eyebrows furrowed together with confusion. 

One by one, their smiles slip off their faces. “Full...house...” Soonyoung says in disbelief. 

Jihoon's mouth is hanging open and he blinks slowly to make sure he's not imagining things. 

Wonwoo gulps. 

“Oh, I guess I got it wrong. I'll have to try to remember the name next time,” Junhui muttered sadly. He glanced around at the cards on the floor. “One pair is the lowest hand right? Or have I misunderstood the rules entirely?” Junhui asks. 

“No, no, you've got that right.” Soonyoung whistles, still staring at the cards Junhui put down. “Who was it who got the jacks?”

Wonwoo doesn't say, "Me," instead, he sadly fiddles with the hem of his sweater. But Jihoon's laser eyes narrow in on him and he'd rather be sleeveless than scrutinized, so he pulls the grey knit over his head and tosses it behind him. He shivers in just the thin white tank top underneath and buries his face in his hands. 

“It's cold,” he mumbles. 

Junhui flings an arm out and wraps it around Wonwoo's torso. “I'll keep you warm.” Instead of being comforted, Wonwoo continues trying to make his face and hands become one with each other. 

“Next round?” Junhui asks cheerfully, fingers gripped tightly around Wonwoo’s shoulder. 

“Yeah...” Soonyoung agrees, blinking, and finally clearing his head from the shock. “Is shoes for everyone okay?”

Jihoon and Junhui nod easily. Wonwoo's head bobs up and down, but his face remains hidden in his hands. He doesn't remove them until he gets his cards and has to pick them up to look at them to see what they are. They're better this time, and he knows not to be overconfident now. 

The round ends in Junhui and Jihoon both having nothing but a high card (ace) so they both take off their shoes. By the time no one is wearing their socks or jackets, the tension in the room has gotten much higher. 

“Next round shows some skin,” Soonyoung giggles nervously, slotting cards between each other in the deck. His hands move quickly as each of them calls out t-shirt or tank top, no one willing to sit without their jeans or sweatpants yet. “The grand reveal,” he jokes. 

Wonwoo looks at his cards with trepidation. He places them in his mouth, holding them there as he tries to stare the others down. They play the rest of the round in silence, trying to intimidate each other into going for a higher hand. Wonwoo decides to go for being more conservative, not willing to break up his pair of tens. It's not a great draw, but going for anything else seems riskier. He drops cards that could make a straight to see if he’ll pick up any more tens. When Jihoon starts twitching, Wonwoo's convinced he won't lose this round because Jihoon is terrible at keeping his facial expressions in check, but the cards reveal his to be the lowest hand.

“Shit,” he swears. “Why me?” 

Junhui pats him on the back, but Soonyoung is not nearly as sympathetic. He starts chanting, “take it off, take it off,” and pats Jihoon’s thigh to annoy him into joining his taunting. 

Wonwoo leans backward until he falls, back landing on the ground with a thud. It's the wrong thing to do, since Junhui's fingers start tickling his sides, and Soonyoung pounces while he's distracted, shoving his tank top up over his stomach. Wonwoo, unable to offensively fend off two people at once, curls inward with his arms pressed against his chest. His self-protection only lasts for moments while hands are pressed all over his stomach, chest, and arms, before he has to concede defeat, yelling, “Okay, okay, I got it, I'll take it off myself,” so Soonyoung would get off of him. 

He yanks the thin cotton off of him as quickly as he can, like ripping off a band-aid, and then shoves his face into it from embarrassment. He's slouched over, willing them all to look away quickly when the cards were out again so he could pretend that none of this was happening to him. Someone's fingers ghosts over his side, and then presses into the spaces between his rib bones. Wonwoo grabs one of the offending fingers, pulling it up to briefly close his teeth around it.

The owner of the finger is unperturbed. “You're so thin.” Wonwoo peeks out with one eye, and looks at a frowning Junhui, who's still inspecting Wonwoo’s torso, face way closer to his chest than entirely necessary.

“Shut up.” He throws the tank top at Junhui's face and grumbles loudly at his cards. 

“Your damn beginner's luck,” Jihoon complains, when Junhui's the only one left in a shirt. Soonyoung's down to his boxers, and has turned on the space heater underneath Jihoon's desk so none of them catch a cold. He shuffles over closer to Jihoon to share in the warmth, sitting so that their knees are touching.

Junhui winks at him happily but his face changes when he sees his cards. 

“No one's falling for that one again!” Soonyoung yells. He's swiveled around and stopped sitting upright, leaning his head on Jihoon’s thigh where his knee was just brushing, while lying down on his side. 

Wonwoo's hunched shoulders shake with laughter as he swaps out one of his cards. 

Junhui's displeasure, however, turns out to be warranted when he has nothing but a king of clubs in his hand. “I was going to try for like, a straight or something, but it kind of felt like I was going to lose from the beginning.”

“Are you trying to pull a long-con on us?” Jihoon asks suspiciously. 

“No, he's trying to distract us from the fact that he hasn't taken off his shirt. Strip,” Soonyoung commands, kicking at Wonwoo to make him make Junhui listen to him. 

Junhui immediately reaches out a hand to fend off whatever Wonwoo's about to do, so Wonwoo surprises him by swinging a leg over Junhui's thighs to hold him still. Junhui, caught off guard, falls backward onto his hands, and shrieks, “No!” 

Wonwoo twitches with the volume of the scream, and his cock brushes against Junhui's hips. He flinches again, and looks down with embarrassment, while Junhui is still laughing and half-heartedly fending off Wonwoo's hands. Wonwoo takes a deep breath to calm himself, and jabs his fingers into Junhui's stomach. Junhui flails his arms again. It's Wonwoo biting his forearm near the elbow that finally gets him to give in and remove his shirt.

Soonyoung pats both his own shoulders, one at a time, feeling fearless since he has so little left to lose. “I don't know why you fought that so hard,” Soonyoung says, waving his hands to demonstrate and indicate over his own body, “You have the nicest chest out of all of us. Also abs.”

Jihoon pets Soonyoung's soft tummy and gives him a cheeky smile. Soonyoung smiles back and then knocks his shoulder into Jihoon until he loses his balance. Jihoon mutters and glares darkly, but settles in to deal the cards. 

In a complete reversal, Junhui is the first one to be completely naked. He takes off his briefs without much commotion, not even bothering to turn around, which doesn't help Wonwoo's half-hard state at all. 

Soonyoung averts his gaze and blinks. “Wow, for someone who struggled so hard not to get your shirt removed, you sure strip down easy.”

Junhui, now lying on his front, shrugs his shoulders. “Nothing anyone hasn't seen before. Or do you keep your eyes shut through your entire bathroom routine?” 

Jihoon snorts. “Soonyoung-goon? Yeah right. Gets up to the most shenanigans in the shower.” He shifts to the side to avoid being slapped in the arm by Soonyoung. Soonyoung just goes for his ass instead. “Ow, you asshole!” 

Junhui laughs. “I've...experienced.” 

“That's true,” Soonyoung considers with a finger on his cheek. “I guess I have nothing private from the members, as long as the fans don't see. No phones! No pictures!” 

Jihoon gives Soonyoung a shove and rolls his eyes. “Obviously. We're dumb enough to along with your crazy antics, but not _stupid_.” He loses his jeans in the next round, but the boxers he wears swim around him like a pair of shorts. 

Soonyoung doesn’t avert his gaze this time at all, and casually rests one hand over his joxers, while looking at his cards with the other.

Jihoon shimmies on the floor to get comfortable, and spreads his legs out into a V, thighs bare and smooth. He drums his fingers on his chest, lips pursed tightly together as he considers how to proceed. 

Soonyoung does not hide the scratching motion he makes. And then he’s all too eager after the end of the round, when Jihoon loses out (“How the fuck can you lose in five card draw with three of a kind? There’s no way the cards should have two straights and a flush, someone’s cheating!”) to straddle Jihoon’s hips and tickle him.

No one can pretend, at this point, that Soonyoung is not rubbing his dick against Jihoon’s.

Wonwoo exhales slowly, looking up at his bangs, and busies himself with fixing his hair. The thing with not having privacy from the other members was that they were all very...pent up, for lack of a better word. There was always someone else around, unless it was late enough that everyone was asleep - at which point, no one had enough energy to beat one off. Not only with schedules and managers following everyone around, these days the dorm room felt way smaller and harder to breathe since no one was leaving to go to school or do their own things. There's a place and a time for jacking off, but Wonwoo hadn't found either in too long. 

He can empathize with Soonyoung, in that regard, and it seems totally normal to him that Soonyoung would be turned on right now. They’re teenage guys who have been in each others’ presence for so long, barely interacting with anyone else, that they were bound to start liking one another’s personalities and bodies, he supposes. Wonwoo’s familiar with normal bodily functions. He was sitting on Hansol’s other side that night all those years ago while Mingyu comforted him with incessant babbling and Junhui went to put his sheets in the washing machine after Hansol’s first wet dream in the dorms. 

That was normal. It happened to everyone. It’s happened to Wonwoo at least once or twice, where he woke up panting and had to run quickly to do laundry before anyone else woke up. And this was normal too. People got horny. That was a thing. Wonwoo’s nipples being rock hard from the cold, his cock sensitive to every movement of his boxers ever since it rubbed up against Junhui accidentally, that was just a normal reaction to the, admittedly bizarre, current state of his surroundings.

Junhui looking down at his cards, says, “I’m naked already anyway, there is literally nothing for me to lose so I’m going.” He stands up, collecting his clothing in a ball, and tucking it under his arm.

It takes Wonwoo a minute to realize Junhui’s waiting for him to leave too. He’s too busy staring at Junhui’s dick, which is hanging loosely and too close to Wonwoo’s face. 

His mouth is dry. He wonders if it would be heavy. Was Junhui a grower? Would his cock fit inside Wonwoo’s mouth? What would it taste like? 

He’s yanked to his feet before he finishes his line of questioning, and shoved out the door with his belongings. In good time, too, because he hears a long drawn out moan coming from Soonyoung before the door shuts. Good thing for soundproofing in the studio. Or not.

“Come on,” Junhui whispers to him, walking down the hall towards the dance practice room. Wonwoo stares at the movement of Junhui’s ass as he moves each leg. His body is drawn forward by his teeth, which have a newfound desire to sink into those round glutes. The fabric of his boxers bushing against his cock with every step is sending quick pulses to his brain, and he lets out a soft little sigh when they’re alone in the room, far away from Soonyoung and Jihoon. 

“Thought they might like to be alone,” Junhui shrugs. 

Wonwoo frowns. Junhui looks like he’s about to get dressed again. That was not on. 

He sinks to his knees, startling Junhui into dropping his clothes and backing up against the wall. 

“Wonwoo-ya,” Junhui mumbles. He reaches out a hand, placing it on Wonwoo’s shoulder to hold him where he is.

It doesn’t stop Wonwoo from running a hand up Junhui’s shin. He doesn’t look at Junhui. 

His eyes are still on Junhui’s cock when he whispers, “Can I?” There’s a tremble in his voice. His breath ghosts against the top of Junhui’s thighs, palms sweaty and shaking slightly. From fear. From _want_. 

“Do you want to?” Junhui asks in a very quiet voice. He sounds mostly terrified, but the hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder slips a little, until the fingers rest on his collarbone. 

Wonwoo swallows, opens his mouth, and darts his tongue around to wet his lips. “I _need_ your cock in my mouth, like, yesterday,” he says reverently, voice low and husky. 

Junhui shivers, clenches his eyes shut, and nods slowly. “O-okay, y-yes,” he stammers. 

Wonwoo arches his neck forward, one hand on Junhui’s knee, the other wrapped around his ankle. He presses a tiny, closed-mouth kiss to the inside of Junhui’s thigh, and then another one to the side of his cock. He looks up to see Junhui biting his lower lip, eyes still firmly closed. 

More daring now, Wonwoo darts his tongue out, giving one gentle lap to the side of Junhui’s cock, and then flattening his tongue to lick a wide strip from base to tip. Junhui legs twitch in Wonwoo’s hands. Wonwoo readjusts his position on the floor so that some of his weight is on his toes rather than all pressed down on his knees. He runs his mouth along either side of Junhui’s dick, and presses sloppy, wet kisses along the trail of saliva he left behind. 

With one hand, he holds the base of Junhui’s cock, angling it to fit into his mouth. With the other, he taps Junhui’s pelvic bone. 

Wonwoo blinks up slowly to meet Junhui’s eyes, which have darted down to meet his gaze. He pushes his lips down the length of his dick, and slowly comes back up. Junhui’s eyes are dark and his chest heaves up and down. 

The arousal isn’t just in his breathing. Junhui _is_ a grower. Wonwoo has to adjust his mouth around his girth, and wonders if he’ll choke himself on the length. He doesn’t think he would mind. Wonwoo nuzzles against Junhui’s balls, cheek against his cock, nose brushing against dark hair while stroking him with one hand. 

“I don’t— I’ve never done this before,” Wonwoo confesses. 

“God, you’re doing fine.” 

“I’m Jeon Wonwoo, not God,” he quips.

Junhui’s hand moves to his hair, and pulls. The tug at his scalp is nice instead of unwanted. 

“As I was saying, you’re doing fine. Just—just do what you’d enjoy,” Junhui says, head tilted back against the wall. 

Wonwoo opens his mouth, and takes Junhui in as far as he can. He feels pressure in the back of his throat and gags a little. He releases him and leans back, letting his hands work up and down Junhui’s dick, skin rubbing over the head. Junhui makes a quiet whimpering sound that instantly makes Wonwoo lean forward again, taking him into his mouth and tasting precome bitter on his tongue. It mixes with the saliva, leaving Junhui slick for Wonwoo’s hands. There are nails scratching at his scalp now, which sends shivers down his spine. 

“Mmm,” he moans around a mouthful of cock. The vibrations make Junhui gasp deliciously. The weight in his mouth is starting to feel familiar now, as he slides his mouth up and down, hands mirroring the motion. Junhui tastes like nothing Wonwoo’s had in his mouth before, and he can’t get enough of it. After a while, Wonwoo’s jaw begins to get tired from being held open, and he slackens a little, teeth accidentally grazing Junhui’s dick very briefly.

“Fuck, Wonwoo, this is my dick, not a fish cake on a skewer,” Junhui bites out. It’s unfortunate that he’s this coherent, Wonwoo thinks unapologetically. 

He slides the tip of his tongue inside Junhui’s foreskin, hand still moving, wrapped around Junhui’s dick, and licks a circle around the head. One of Junhui’s knees buckles and he makes a rather incoherent “Ngh,” noise. 

That was more like it. 

The hand that’s not already in his hair comes to the back of Wonwoo’s head. Wonwoo rolls his tongue around a little, relishing the moans coming out Junhui’s mouth, basking in them like each was a word of praise. He presses a gentle kiss to the tip of Junhui’s cock, before taking all of it into his mouth again, getting his lips as close to the base as he can. 

The pressure at the back of his throat is still uncomfortable, but he manages to repeat the motion a few times, before settling into a rhythm. Head down until it was painful, back up, down again, back up. He breathes shallowly through his nose, and manages to build some speed as he becomes more practiced with the motions, both hands moving from cupping Junhui’s balls back to holding his dick. Junhui is straining to hold himself back now.

With hollowed cheeks, Wonwoo sucks as he bobs up and down, lips wet and now providing cushioning against Wonwoo’s teeth. He pushes the foreskin up as he goes down, and then pulls it down as he goes up. Junhui bucks his hips once, and Wonwoo moves to squeeze at his ass, holding him to show how far he could go, guiding Junhui into fucking his mouth. 

He let his hands drop down. There was something incredibly arousing about having your lips around someone else’s dick, and feeling their cock thick and heavy inside your mouth. Wonwoo was never going to be able to recreate that feeling by biting someone’s shoulder. He didn’t think his mouth would be happy with anything else inside it anymore, unless it was Junhui’s dick. 

Having his mouth used like this was brought his attention to his own dick. He had been hard for so long now, and just getting little amounts of friction wasn’t enough, even if blowing someone was turning out to feel amazing. The thought makes his breathing ragged, and he chokes on Junhui, who stops. Wonwoo eagerly leans back in to assure him that he’s alright, mouth firm and red as it travels along the length of him. Wonwoo’s hands held his own cock, pulling back the foreskin gently, and thumbing across the slit. His palms were still slick, and he rubs his precome over the head of his dick before pumping himself. 

Wonwoo is suddenly glad that they had been smart enough to be in a different building entirely from the rest of the members, rather than just the bathroom to their dorms. The sounds Junhui makes are loud, drawn-out, and frequent enough that anybody sleeping in the main room would have woken up by now. And if that hadn’t triggered someone’s attention, the slurping noises from Wonwoo’s mouth around his dick would have definitely been caught by someone’s ears. He grunts, quickening the pace of his palm sliding around himself, fingers held in a tight ring for pressure and friction. 

He’s close, just from watching, and sucking, and briefly touching himself. So close—

Junhui pushes his head backward, and Wonwoo stops quickly, grabbing onto a leg for support. Panting heavily, he holds Junhui’s dick and runs the head of his cock around his lips. Junhui cries out, hand joining Wonwoo’s as he brings him to a finish, eyes closed and mouth open in anticipation. 

Most of Junhui’s cum dribbles onto his chin, but Wonwoo licks at what lands on the corner of his mouth. Junhui immediately bends down, thumbs brushing off the mess, to kiss Wonwoo’s swollen lips before he pushes Wonwoo to lie down on his back. 

Junhui lets his hands roam as he leans down to kiss Wonwoo’s neck. He nibbles there, gently, taking the skin between his teeth as Wonwoo wriggles his toes, fingers clawing at Junhui’s back. Junhui bites with some force just once, before licking at the slight indentations, and then closing his mouth around the flesh. He sucks like he’s a vampire out for blood, and only stops when Wonwoo digs his fingernails in for grip. He looks up, smiles toothily, and then shuffles to cover one of Wonwoo’s nipples with his mouth.

Wonwoo hisses, and then arches his back when Junhui’s hand comes to rub his other nipple between his fingers. Knowingly or not, Junhui’s thigh is rubbing against Wonwoo’s dick. Wonwoo wraps his leg around one of Junhui’s, the heel of his foot digging into Junhui’s calf.

For some reason, when Wonwoo thinks his fingernails scratched hard enough to draw blood from Junhui’s skin, Junhui responds by whispering, “I like you,” to Wonwoo’s sternum. He can’t say anything back, only articulate enough to let out a, “Hnnng.” 

Junhui laughs against his belly, and then takes his cock into his mouth.

Wonwoo lets out continuous little mewls as Junhui sucks, the warm, uncontrollable feeling deep in his stomach climbing to unbearable levels. “Junhui-ya,” he calls out with a burst of air. 

With his hands around Wonwoo’s thighs, Junhui hums. Wonwoo bats at his hands in warning. “Junhui-ya,” he calls again, voice higher in pitch than he’s ever heard it before. It’s flanked by a low grumbling that starts from his chest, and grows in volume.

“Junhui-ya!” He twists his head to the side, one hand squeezed tightly around Junhui’s fingers.

Wonwoo climaxes hoarsely shouting Junhui’s name, and Junhui doesn’t lift his head once. Junhui lets Wonwoo’s come coat his throat, giving a few extra sucks as Wonwoo goes limp and boneless, breathing taking a while to slow to normal. Wonwoo doesn’t let go of Junhui’s fingers, but he uses his other hand to run through Junhui’s sweaty bangs and sweep them off his forehead. 

He covers half his face with his hand, and rubs at his eye. He’s blinded by the lights above him but his lips are pulled upward. All of his body feels relaxed and satiated for the first time since they started doing enough choreography run-throughs to make his muscles ache every morning. Wonwoo didn’t know he could feel this satisfied, this content.

When he looks down, Junhui is smiling shyly at him, with a warmth in his eyes that makes Wonwoo’s heart swell. He thinks that expression it’s probably mirrored in his own face. He rises onto his elbows and pulls Junhui down toward him, letting their legs tangle and wrapping his arms around Junhui’s waist. 

The wind rushes out of Junhui, but he buries his face in Wonwoo’s chest, before turning his head to rest his cheek there. Caught inside Wonwoo’s arms, Junhui starts gently humming a song Wonwoo doesn’t recognize, running one finger along the inside of Wonwoo’s elbow. 

Wonwoo lets himself lean back again, rubbing gentle circles over Junhui’s shoulder blade. He closes his eyes, and smiles. 

***

Soonyoung catches Wonwoo rubbing an entire handful of BB cream all over his neck the next morning. It takes another layer of thick concealer to actually hide the discoloured blotch that’s bloomed there, its size rather impressive. Wonwoo’s expression doesn’t change when he realizes he’s been caught, but Soonyoung’s ears start turning red. He doesn’t say anything, walking silently beside him as they head out.

“Let’s never repeat what happened last night to anyone. Also, let’s never _do_ last night again.” Wonwoo mutters to Soonyoung in the back of the car, once he’s awake and aware. He rubs at his jaw as an afterthought. 

Soonyoung laughs a little breathlessly, nervously. 

Soonyoung tries to hide the excitement that follows him around all day, but he can’t help bouncing in his seat wherever they go. He spends the entire time trying not to laugh.

The mirth bubbles through him when Seungcheol asks Jihoon, “What’s got you in such a good mood today? You’re actually being nice.” It happens again when Mingyu looks shocked that Jihoon doesn’t even threaten to hit him when he spills his drink. 

Jihoon doesn’t look at Soonyoung once after either of these events, but rubs his thumb against the back of Soonyoung’s hand when they sit next to each other for an interview. 

That just makes Soonyoung giddier. He has to wait hours until everyone else finishes rehearsing before he’s finally left alone. 

“Aren’t you going home too?” Seungkwan asks, when Soonyoung’s finished teaching him the choreography. 

“Uh…no I’ve got some stuff to work on still,” Soonyoung says quickly. 

He nearly trips over his own feet in his rush to get to Jihoon’s room. 

Jihoon is standing by the keyboard, fingers absent-mindedly playing the lyrical motif of his own composition that he had come to really like recently, when he’s attacked. Soonyoung throws his entire weight on top of him from behind, one arm wrapped around Jihoon’s neck, and the other coming to cup his crotch with his hand.

Jihoon pushes Soonyoung away with his hips, jerking his neck out of Soonyoung’s grasp. 

“What are you doing?” He asks in a huff, whirling around. His face is schooled into a cool expression, but he can’t hide the interest his cock shows at the touch, and the heat in his cheeks comes from both anger and arousal.

Soonyoung grins slyly at him, eyes hooded. “I’ve been looking forward to getting you alone all day, what do you think I’m doing?” He reaches a hand out to grab Jihoon into a hug, both hands squeezing Jihoon’s ass affectionately. 

“Get off me!” Jihoon protests, a little too late because Soonyoung’s felt how hard he is already.

Soonyoung pulls back anyway, eyes filled with concern as they look into Jihoon’s. “Do you want me to stop? I can go back and let you finish up whatever you have to do.” 

Jihoon groans. 

Soonyoung straightens up and presses the front of his shirt back down. His head is bowed and voice small when he says, “I got it, I’ll go.” He turns to leave, but is tugged back by a hand clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

“I can’t believe you’re making me say it,” Jihoon growls. “Stay.” 

Soonyoung’s eyes sparkle, and he eagerly turns to soften Jihoon up with a kiss. Jihoon keeps his mouth firmly closed at first, but eventually relaxes his grip around Soonyoung’s clothes, and stands on his tip toes to slip his tongue between Soonyoung’s lips. 

Soonyoung moves his hand to cup Jihoon’s jaw and hold him there but Jihoon pulls it away. Undeterred, Soonyoung simply slips his hand to the front of Jihoon’s trousers, kneading with his fingers. He pulls away to ask, “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Jihoon breathes out, and bites his lower lip. He arches into Soonyoung’s hands, and uses his hands to prop himself up on the table behind him. 

Soonyoung shoves his sweats and boxers to his knees, all in one go, and Jihoon watches while lazily touching himself. His breathing is a little ragged, and only gets faster when Soonyoung makes quick work of his jeans too. Soonyoung manoeuvers them into chairs that face each other, and Jihoon eagerly laps at the fingers presented to his mouth, sucking on both before licking a wet stripe down Soonyoung’s palm. 

He makes a muted sound of disappointment when the hand is taken away from him, but then lets out a drawn-out groan when Soonyoung wraps his slicked hand around both their cocks, rubbing around them. It’s different, having Soonyoung’s hand there instead of his own, and even more different when he can feel the heat and hardness of Soonyoung’s dick pressed up against his. It’s different, but also really good. Each point of contact between Soonyoung’s fingers and his dick sends tiny, pleasant electric shocks shooting through him, the combined effect leaving Jihoon to arch his back.

Jihoon doesn’t know if it’s the thought of having someone else do something this intimate to him, if it’s the thought of _Soonyoung_ touching him, or something else entirely, but the feeling is more than he ever experiences when it’s just him by himself. He leans his head backward to rest against the back of his seat and closes his eyes.

The moaning noises Jihoon makes are fast and frequent, and dance around in Soonyoung’s ears pleasantly. There’s a heft to holding two dicks in his hand that requires more effort than one, but Soonyoung thinks he can do this forever when he looks at the movement of Jihoon’s jaw as he opens and closes his mouth. Soonyoung licks his lips slowly, and leans forward to hold onto Jihoon’s thigh. 

Jihoon’s eyes fly open and he clenches a fist around the hand Soonyoung has on his leg. Soonyoung immediately stops stroking and lets go of Jihoon’s dick. 

They blink at each other, slowly. 

“What…what are you doing?” Jihoon says, in a strangled voice that is no where close to the composure he had only minutes ago. His gaze is murderous as he watches Soonyoung continue to pump himself slowly.

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything for a moment, but looks pointedly at where Jihoon has a hand around Soonyoung’s wrist, holding it up off his thigh. 

Jihoon purses his lips when he understands, and very deliberately replaces Soonyoung’s hand on his thigh. He grimaces as he feels it on his skin, tensing his quad muscle before Soonyoung manages to massage it to a relaxed state. Soonyoung’s hand is back around Jihoon’s cock at this point, and Jihoon has to actively shallow his breathing in order to feel comfortable with Soonyoung touching him somewhere that isn’t his dick. Then, Soonyoung’s thumb moves up to rub small circles around the head of Jihoon’s cock, shifting his hand position to get a different angle, and Jihoon forgets all about the hand on his thigh.

He lets out a deep breath and resumes the throaty groaning noises that Soonyoung has come to savour, and Soonyoung shifts his hips so that their cocks can rub against each other. Jihoon whines loudly pitching getting higher and higher with time, but Soonyoung has better plans. He adjusts his sitting position, giving an encouraging smile to Jihoon, before turning his attention downward again.

Soonyoung is careful with his fingers as he slides his foreskin over the head of Jihoon’s dick, and then runs his hand over the length of both their cocks, rubbing the skin back and forth. It was a weird idea, but Soonyoung’s very glad he thought of it, and he lets his eyelids fall shut to concentrate on the feelings around the end of his cock.

“Fuck,” Jihoon groans, voicing Soonyoung’s thoughts, and then again but longer, “Fuuuck.” His chest heaves up and down quickly, brain fried from the sensations Soonyoung’s hand is making him feel. He almost doesn’t notice Soonyoung’s other palm coming to rest against his cheek, but then the coldness alerts him to its presence and he jerks his head back. 

Once again, Soonyoung stops moving his hand, and rolls his chair backward until they’re no longer joined by their dicks. His breathing is so hard that Soonyoung barely has enough energy to look at Jihoon.

“Urgh,” Jihoon nearly yells, grabbing Soonyoung’s hand and smacking his own face with it. “Fine, touch me all you want, happy? I’ve got the memo, now please fucking get on with it!” 

Soonyoung smiles, and he goes back to holding their dicks side by side, wrapping his fingers around both to rub his hand up and down, building speed as he gets closer and closer to his climax.

Jihoon comes first, in bursts, grunting and actually leaning into the hand Soonyoung has on his face. It’s the first time in a long while since Soonyoung last saw Jihoon warm up to physical affection like this, and he enjoys the press of Jihoon’s forehead against his own as he thrusts up into his own hand until completion. 

“I did it,” Soonyoung drawls once they’ve cleaned themselves and the chairs and floor up with wads of tissues. 

“Did what?” Jihoon grumbles, face planted in Soonyoung’s chest. 

Soonyoung tugs him even closer, cheek pressed to the top of Jihoon’s head. He can even feel Jihoon’s hands around his back, holding onto him instead of just letting himself be hugged.

“I got you to willing touch someone,” Soonyoung sing-songs into Jihoon’s hair. 

Jihoon runs a finger down Soonyoung’s spine. “Not someone,” he grumbles. “Just you.” 

“Good, just me. Always just me.” 

***

“Let’s say we’re all on a ship and something happens to it and there’s a lifeboat meant for twelve people. Who would you leave off the boat?”

“Myself,” Junhui says quickly.

“What? Why would you say that? You’re not supposed to—”

“Because I could die happily knowing the rest of the members were safe, but if I had to live without one of you I would be sad for the rest of my life,” Junhui says, eyes blinking innocently like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. He pulls the cushion he’s holding closer to him when he notices the others all staring at him.

“…That was oddly touching, even if it was also one of the cheesiest things I’ve ever heard,” Seungkwan admits. 

Seungcheol pats the floor with his palm to get everyone’s attention. “But for the sake of variety you have to go for like, ‘I wouldn’t save Seungcheol-hyung because he knows how to swim!’ and make people laugh, or something like that,” Seungcheol tells them.

“Ehh, that’s even cheesier. People don’t find that kind of thing funny anymore,” Soonyoung scoffs. 

Junghan tucks his bangs behind his ear. “I don’t know, I found that pretty funny. I don’t think they’d ask us a question like that though, it sounds too mean to single out one person who you _wouldn’t_ want to save. Shouldn’t it be the one person you _would_ want to save?” 

“Myself!” Junhui announces quickly again.

Minghao pats him twice on the shoulder while shaking his head, “Now there’s the Junnie-hyung I know.” 

“For the sake of variety you should say something like, ‘I would save Seungcheol-hyung because he could lead us all back to safety!’” He grins while Seokmin laughs.

“You’ve just taken the prize for being even cheesier,” Seungkwan says with a sigh.

Jihoon narrows his eyes and throws a gum wrapper at Seungcheol’s head. “He’s just trying to get us all to say his name and give him more screen-time.”

Junghan pats Seungcheol’s head. “Yup, sounds like Cheollie.” 

“This is such a waste of time, I haven’t learned how to be better on variety shows at all,” Hansol whines from the corner. He’s lying down but holding his arms and legs up in the air, with his hair splayed in a circle around his head.

“I know the answer to this question!” Mingyu declares, “It’s gotta be something no one expects and wouldn’t have thought of otherwise. And also if it’s cheesy, no one will like it. So, it should be something practical! Like, Seungkwannie because he could use his loud voice to direct us which way to swim.” 

Seokmin furrows his brows. “How is that different from what Seungcheol-hyung said?” He inspects Mingyu’s face, as Mingyu smiles toothily, and turns to examine Seungkwan’s face as well. “Wait. Did you tell him to say that?”

“Oh my, look at the time everyone, we have to get to the car or we’ll be late for the recording!” Seungkwan says in a rush, jumping to his feet and hauling a laughing Mingyu up with him.

“Are people really going to ask us questions like this?” Jisoo whispers into Junghan’s ear.

“Yah, everyone, Shua wants to know if we’ll actually be asked something like that,” Junghan informs the group. Jisoo covers his face with one hand and tries not to be embarrassed.

Seungkwan, who’s dragging Chan and Hansol upright and using his elbows to shepherd people to the door as quickly as possible, kindly says, “Who knows what they’ll ask? But it’s better to be prepared than caught unawares, isn’t it?” His voice trails as he enters the hallway.

Junghan turns to Jisoo, hair whipping around, and beams. Jisoo nods sadly and follows him to the doorway. Soonyoung’s shrieks can be heard throughout the dorms as Jihoon beats him with one shoe for pretending to steal the other of the pair. Seokmin is too breathless from laughter to save him. Seungcheol has an arm around Minghao, both with their shoes already on, and leads him outside so he doesn’t have to deal with the fighting going on by the shoe racks. 

Junhui waits, watching all the pairs of legs stand and move toward the doorway, uninterested in getting involved with the shoe war that happens nearly every morning. Wonwoo scoots over on his butt to sit beside him. Once Junghan and Jisoo have joined Seungkwan and Mingyu, Wonwoo leans over to bite Junhui’s shoulder.

“There are much better uses for your mouth than biting me,” Junhui says with laughter, half-heartedly swatting back at him. 

Wonwoo smirks but doesn’t get derailed. He stabs into Junhui’s stomach with three fingers and doesn’t look sympathetic when Junhui winces and holds his side, pouting from the pain.

“That’s what you get,” Wonwoo mutters, nose poking upward as he lifts his chin.

“What?” Junhui raises his arms and holds his palms out. “What did I do?” 

Wonwoo jabs him again, this time in the thigh. “You were saying mean and selfish things.” He pokes him another two times for good measure.

“When?” Junhui says, voice rising in disbelief. 

“You’d leave yourself off the boat?” 

Junhui opens his mouth, pauses, and then snorts. “You’re upset about that? But that’s me sacrificing myself. How is that selfish?” He elbows Wonwoo back in the ribs. 

“Then I’d have to walk without you around and stuff,” Wonwoo mumbles, before using his teeth to grab onto Junhui’s sleeve. 

“I’m touched,” Junhui says, laughing softly. He lifts his hand slowly so it meets Wonwoo’s mouth, but wraps his other arm around Wonwoo to pull him into a brief hug. He presses his face into the side of Wonwoo’s neck and breathes in the smell of his skin, soap, and a tiny whiff of cologne. 

“Did you ever watch the movie Titanic?” Wonwoo whispers into his ear.

Junhui smirks. “Oh are you a fan of romance movies? I thought you were into horror films?” He teases.

Wonwoo punches Junhui’s shoulder. 

“I think I like sat in the background while my mom watched it as a kid,” Junhui finally tells him, albeit flippantly.

“There was that raft she was on right? And the guy got left off and died, but there was totally space on the raft for him? If we were in a shipwreck, I’d pull you onto the raft. We’d have to make it together, or I wouldn’t make it at all. Life isn’t five card draw, lowest hand loses.” It’s kind of uncomfortable to admit, and Wonwoo squirms before Junhui starts blowing a soft stream of air, tickling his neck.

“Stop it, what’s with you and my neck?” Wonwoo complains, still feeling embarrassed. 

Junhui snuggles further into him. “I could ask you the same thing about biting things and putting things into your mouth.” 

Wonwoo doesn't have anything to say to that, so he pushes Junhui off him and helps him up so they can leave. “I meant what I said, okay? Don’t forget it.” He mutters gruffly, yanking a little too hard on his laces to pull of the nonchalant look. 

“I got it,” Junhui says in a placating tone, and then, out of earshot of everyone else, “I like you too.” 

“Who said anything about liking you?” Wonwoo whispers so no one else can hear, smacking Junhui’s butt on the way into the back of their car to sit with Mingyu. 

Junhui falls asleep moments into the car ride, which is pretty unusual because he’s almost always first one awake in the morning and never seems to need to recharge. If he’s tired enough to be sleeping, he’s probably _really, really_ tired, and Wonwoo doesn’t think it’d be a good idea for the others to wake him up, even if it is a policy that they aren’t supposed to nap. Wonwoo pulls him from resting his head against the window onto his shoulder, and then eases his head further down so that it rests against his chest, making sure no one in front of them can see Junhui’s head. 

“It’s nice that you guys have gotten closer,” Mingyu says from his other side, while wiping his nose. 

“What do you mean? I’m close to all of the members,” Wonwoo says, trying to be as calm as possible.

Mingyu snorts, and lets Wonwoo hold the package of tissues so Mingyu can fish one out and use it. “Yeah, sure. I used to worry about you, you know?”

“Why would you worry about me?” Wonwoo asks defensively. “I’m older than you, I’m the one who gets concerned about your sorry ass.” 

“Hm, I have a lot of people who get concerned about my beautiful ass. But you kind of…never had anyone else to dump your problems on. So I’m glad you spend time with and talk to Junhui-hyung, and it’s even better since you guys are the same age and stuff.” 

Wonwoo attempts to flick Mingyu in the forehead, which doesn’t go very well because he’s also trying not to wake Junhui up and can’t move very far or very fast. Mingyu dodges way too easily.

“What, am I wrong?” 

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. “Don’t talk about things you don’t know or understand,” he admonishes.

Mingyu relents, but revels in the soft look Wonwoo shoots Junhui when he thinks Mingyu’s not paying attention. 

***

Junhui must have messaged him while he was in the shower, because Wonwoo doesn’t see the ‘ _Get over here, I have things…_ ’ on his phone until after he’s already lying in bed with his pyjamas on.

“Why are you changing again?” Jisoo asks him sleepily from the doorway.

“I…just realized I forgot something back at the studio. I have to grab it,” Wonwoo says, in what he hopes is a believable tone. The excuse itself is shit.

“At…” Jisoo squints up to the clock in the living room. “It’s like one o’clock in the morning, it can’t wait until when we wake up?” 

Wonwoo finishes pulling on his jacket and shakes his head. “Nope, have to go, right now, bye hyung, don’t wait up!” 

He nearly runs over Junghan coming out of the bathroom on the way out the door, and apologizes profusely before dashing outside. 

“Did you drag all the gift cushions over here from the dorms? Also, what did you get?” Wonwoo asks, once he gets to the practice room. He’s trying to hide the fact that he basically ran here in anticipation. For good measure, he shakes his wet hair out, going for a casual look, letting the water fly everywhere. 

“No, I just found all the pillows that were still lying around. It’d feel weird to be around presents from fans, wouldn’t it?” Junhui looks amused, and probably isn’t deceived by his acted nonchalance, but he doesn’t say anything on that subject. He pulls out a square metallic wrapper and a squeeze bottle from his pocket, flashing Wonwoo a look. 

Wonwoo laughs breathlessly, voice hitching halfway through his sentence. “Is this…you trying to woo me? I don’t know if you mentally checked out of all the time we’ve spent together, but wooing me is…definitely not necessary. Where did you even manage to get that?” He leans in to press a kiss against Junhui’s jaw. A drop of water falls from his bangs onto Junhui’s nose, and he wipes it off, fingers trembling with nervous excitement. 

Junhui pouts, and shrugs his shoulders. “I’m just…trying to make things comfortable.”

Wonwoo laughs again. “If you were really trying to make things more comfortable, you first of all wouldn’t have chosen the practice rooms. There’s comfortable mattresses back in the dorms…”

“Yes,” Junhui says with some more amusement, “And soooo much privacy for us.” He doesn’t stop there. “Hey Seungcheol-hyung, Junghan-hyung, did you want to watch?” 

“Oh my God, never say that again,” Wonwoo pleads, hands folded over his mouth. “Alright, I get your point, thank you for being so thoughtful,” he finishes in a childish voice. 

Junhui hits him in the back of the head, and then uses the same hand to tangle into Wonwoo’s hair to pull him forward for a kiss. Wonwoo holds onto Junhui’s waist as their mouths meet, tongues darting playfully against each other. It’s late, but he’s very alert, all senses firing at full capacity where he can feel Junhui, see him, smell him, hear his soft breathing, and taste the sweetness of his lips.

“Can you?” Wonwoo prompts, nudging Junhui’s cheekbone with his nose.

“Tell me what you want,” Junhui says, sitting down and pulling Wonwoo into his lap.

Wonwoo hesitates slightly, and leans forward to nibble on Junhui’s earlobe before speaking. “Royal flush.”

“The best you can get?” Junhui asks, hand slipping underneath Wonwoo’s shirt to trace circles over his stomach.

“Nothing could beat having your dick in my ass.” Wonwoo’s voice is low and gravelly, and Junhui doesn’t know if he has to swallow because of the words or the tone but his throat is dry and there’s something caught in it he can’t force down.

“You have to tell me if you want to stop at any point, no matter what,” Junhui says, kissing his way down Wonwoo’s jaw to settle at his collarbone.

“Yes, okay, no hickies, I’m sick of wearing turtlenecks,” Wonwoo whines. He grabs at Junhui’s shirt, tugging it off before stripping his own jacket and shirt as well before lying back down with a pillow underneath his lower back and calves resting over Junhui’s broad shoulders. 

Junhui reluctantly travels down to his bellybutton and kisses along the thin trail of coarse hair to the waistband of Wonwoo’s trousers. He unzips them slowly and continues his line of kisses over the cotton fabric of his briefs. 

Wonwoo kicks at him in his impatience, and Junhui chuckles. He lets him pull everything off past his ankles. Junhui tugs away his own belt, unzips his jeans, and shivers as he presses the heel of his hand against himself, stroking just once while meeting Wonwoo’s gaze.

He turns his attention to Wonwoo after that, nuzzling the base of his cock before tapping the head against his tongue. Wonwoo’s expression shapes into that of a satisfied cat, startling when Junhui’s tongue presses behind his balls, and then against his anus.

It’s nothing like Wonwoo’s ever felt before, but that’s a shame because it feels fucking fantastic. He doesn’t want anyone but Junhui doing this to him ever, but he also wants Junhui to continue doing this to him forever. It feels like every hair on his body is standing on end from the stimulation of his nerves there, and it makes him jittery.

“I’m gonna…” Junhui trails off. 

Wonwoo nods his head quickly, eager to have Junhui’s mouth back on him.

His tongue pokes past the ring of sphincters and Wonwoo grabs onto Junhui, scratching up his forearms and releases a guttural noise he wasn’t aware he was capable of making. He’s belatedly really grateful that he was showering before this, finding it kind of strange to have someone’s tongue in his ass, but too comfortable to think about that any further. 

The tongue is gone almost as quickly as it came, and Wonwoo whines. “Fuck, do that again.” 

Wonwoo shivers from the feeling of air brushing against his ass from Junhui’s laughter, but he settles again, fingers wrapped around Junhui’s wrists as he licks slowly in a circle. Junhui massages the muscles with his tongue, getting him wet and warm.

The sensation ends again and Wonwoo looks up to see Junhui inspecting his fingernails. He kicks him in the stomach for taking his sweet time, before pulling his knee back to his chest. But Junhui doesn’t speed up, he methodically coats a finger in lube before rubbing small circles against Wonwoo’s entrance.

“Still okay?” 

“Not if you go this slowly,” Wonwoo complains.

Junhui still doesn’t make any attempt at hastening his movements, but he does take the chance while Wonwoo is relaxed, to push his finger inside. He keeps his other hand around Wonwoo’s cock as he slides his index finger in and out a little, easing his way to get his entire finger inside, up to the knuckle. Once there, he strokes upward with the pad of his fingers, quick and gentle until he has Wonwoo squirming on his back. 

“Take a few deep breaths for me,” Junhui instructs, voice quiet as he pulls his finger out completely. 

The grip on his wrist slackens a little as Wonwoo relaxes, and Junhui slips two fingers inside him. Junhui leans over, presses his mouth to that spot behind Wonwoo’s balls again, and licks there to distract him from the stretch Wonwoo feels as Junhui’s fingers scissor inside of him. Wonwoo moans a little when Junhui brushes his fingers upward again, and Junhui rubs the same spot again to drag another, longer moan out of him. He shifts the fingers in and out to get him used to the sensation, and circles his wrist, spreading him open.

Both fingers are removed entirely again, so Junhui can slick up a third finger in lube, and Wonwoo smacks him. “It’s fine, don’t want your fingers,” he whines.

Junhui nods but doesn’t comply, working the two fingers back inside Wonwoo and sliding in a third. With his thumb, he rubs small circles just above the puckered skin, stroking the other side from inside him with two fingertips. The movement of the fingers warms his skin, and the combination of having them inside him and Junhui’s other hand languidly stroking the shaft of his cock leads to Wonwoo bucking his hips and resuming his grip on one of Junhui’s forearms, but Junhui isn’t paying attention, focused on leaving Wonwoo’s ass gaping for dick. 

Wonwoo whimpers when he’s left empty, His nails leave half-moon indents where they’ve dug into flesh, and Junhui pulls away to roll on a condom and thoroughly lube his cock. 

“Yes or no?” Junhui asks. 

Wonwoo can feel the head of Junhui’s cock touching his entrance, and he strains his neck muscles to hold his head up so he can see. He nods vigorously, fingers grasping for Junhui’s arms again so he can hold onto something, with his feet dangling in the air above him. 

Junhui moves slowly, slow enough that Wonwoo thinks he can handle this easy, until he feels the rest of the head of Junhui’s dick pressing into him. He bites down on his lower lip, and is grateful for the third finger. Junhui murmurs quiet nothings at him until the rest of the head is in, at which point Wonwoo’s breathing evens out again. Junhui eases himself in gently, pushing as little as possible at a time, and Wonwoo can feel the self-restraint he’s using in the dig of his fingers around Wonwoo’s knees. 

His thighs are trembling when he’s all the way in, but Junhui waits for Wonwoo to get used to feeling stretched and full for a moment instead of moving. Wonwoo takes the chance to rotate his hips, still watching and feeling for a comfortable angle. Junhui can’t stop the high pitched, “oh,” that escapes his lips at the movement or sensation around him, tight, slick, and warm. 

When Wonwoo looks into Junhui’s face and taps a finger against the back of his hand, Junhui has another question on the tip of his tongue. Appreciative but also impatient, Wonwoo takes matters into his own hands and tilts his pelvis down and up to get the message across. Junhui cries out, fingers tightening again around Wonwoo’s knees, and finally meets Wonwoo’s hips in a forward thrust. 

“Yes,” Wonwoo hisses out, “like that.” 

Junhui’s movements are controlled and deliberate, hips rolling forward in smooth motions that make Wonwoo shudder underneath him. Junhui is methodical about it, nothing jerky, eyes on the rise and fall of Wonwoo’s chest as he pushes in and and out. Wonwoo yanks Junhui down by the elbow for a kiss, slipping his tongue into Junhui’s mouth while he runs a hand down his chest. 

When Junhui breaks the kiss, Wonwoo mutters “More, please,” in between his panting. 

Junhui presses their foreheads together but listens for once, increasing the speed and force of his movements with a groan. Wonwoo does his best with his hips to meet him with every thrust, moaning continually. Junhui’s supporting himself with a hand beside Wonwoo’s head and Wonwoo clings onto his biceps. He squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head in order to bite into a pillow, with the hopes that it’ll muffle the stream of yelling this is making him want to let out. It’s good, but it’s not enough. 

“Fuck, hang on,” Wonwoo says, reluctant to stop. Junhui halts immediately, eyes only half open as he looks at Wonwoo. He bites his lips and lets Wonwoo push him backward, changing their position so that Junhui is flat on his back with Wonwoo sitting on top of him, dick still in his ass. 

“Are you okay?” Junhui looks up at him for confirmation.

Wonwoo’s eyes flutter to a brief close before he replies, “Yes. You just sit tight.” 

“It looks to me like you’re the one sitting on something,” Junhui says with a grin. 

Wonwoo ignores him. He licks his lips and rests his palms on Junhui’s chest and has to shuffle to find a squat that doesn’t hurt his knees, but it’s better like this, with him on top guiding their pace, he thinks. He can finally have Junhui’s dick moving fast and hard inside of him, and every minute change in the position of his hips means a different angle of penetrance to brush against his prostate. When he finds what he likes best, he whines in a high-pitched tone for a drawn out time. 

“Better?” Junhui asks with a smirk.

“Fuck yeah,” Wonwoo replies eagerly, tilting his head back in delight. His moaning has become louder, more shameless, and mixes harmonically with Junhui’s more occasional grunts. 

Wonwoo thumbs one of Junhui’s nipples, relishing in the shiver that translates into a twisting of Junhui’s dick inside him. Junhui looks better now, at ease instead of worrying about being in control, bucking his hips upward very cooperatively while Wonwoo rides him. 

“Mm,” Wonwoo groans, “You look amazing like this.”

Junhui has one hand covering Wonwoo’s fingers on his pectoral muscles, and responds by shaping the other hand into a ring around Wonwoo’s dick. The hand doesn’t move, but with every jerk of Wonwoo’s hips, the hand shifts up and down his cock. 

It leaves him keening, feeling filled and whole as Junhui’s dick plunges in and out of him, completing him in a way he didn’t know he was empty. That and having Junhui’s cock brush against something inside him that sends jolts of pleasure all the way down to his toes in combination with the fingers around his own cock creates wave after wave of gratification flooding through his body, and takes over his brain. He shakes his head to get his bangs to the side, and locks eyes with Junhui, making sure he knows how good the cock in his ass feels, and his control goes a little.

Wonwoo didn’t think he’d be this noisy during sex, but he hasn’t stopped making a variety of noises since he got naked, and nothing changes when his rhythm starts getting more erratic. It takes a lot of energy and effort to move like this, when the only thing he can concentrate on is how close he is. His mouth opens to make an “Annh” sound that changes pitch with every time his hips move, and the only way he can stop himself is to stick a knuckle between his teeth. 

Junhui pulls on his arm, tugging his finger out of his mouth.

“I want to hear you,” he says hoarsely.

Wonwoo doesn’t try to stay quiet after that. He comes all over Junhui’s stomach, shouting incoherently. He doesn’t stop riding Junhui’s dick until after Junhui’s chanting “Fuck, fuck fuck,” and yelling into his ear, hands tight around Wonwoo’s hips as he bucks up two last times. 

It takes Wonwoo shivering from the cold to spur Junhui into wiping things clean and getting clothes back on in the afterglow. 

Wonwoo tangles their legs together while resting his head on Junhui’s arm. “Let’s do that again sometime,” he mumbles before yawning. 

“Anything you want,” Junhui agrees, with fondness. 

***

There’s a week when their schedules, rehearsals, performances, and interviews lead to everyone only getting about two hours of sleep a day, maximum. Wonwoo doesn’t think he processes anything that happens the entire time, barely putting in the social interaction required for the camera, going through the movements by sheer muscle memory for their dances and then shutting down in his sleep deprived state as soon as they’re off set so as to reserve energy for whatever came next. The lack of sleep is making him both exhausted and restless at the same time, but the lack of human interaction is also starting to make him feel unanchored, like he could float away and no one would notice or care.

“You’ll be okay,” Junhui had muttered to him in the car on the way to hair and make-up one morning, patting his leg distractedly.

“How would you know?” Wonwoo had replied, voice and hackles raised. Junhui wasn’t looking for a fight and they hadn’t spoken to each other the rest of the day.

By the time everything seems like it’s over (a day later? two? he’s lost track) and he can finally take a nap, Wonwoo’s running on less than fumes. He stumbles over to a bed while it’s still light outside only to find Junhui snoozing with his head against the wall, even though a bed, pillow, and blanket are right there. He collapses onto the bed, resting his head sideways on Junhui’s knee.

“There’s a bed, you should go to sleep,” Junhui mutters groggily, woken up by the sudden movement beside him.

“I could say the same thing to you,” Wonwoo snarks back. He feels miserable about the bite in his tone and brushes the hair off his forehead with his knuckles with a sigh. “Sorry.”

Junhui opens one eye to peer down at his face, and then closes it again when he yawns. None of them should be this sleepy with the sun bright in their faces, but all of their circadian rhythms are shot to death. “Why are you sorry?”

“I’ve just been so short with everyone lately,” Wonwoo mutters, curling in on himself. He was always the one telling people to be more caring of the other members, to not let the stress or exhaustion show because it would bring everyone’s mood down. He had his coping mechanisms, but they had failed him this time. Some things couldn’t be overcome, probably.

“Everyone’s just tired, it’s fine,” Junhui murmurs quietly. 

That was an understatement. They were living as a dorm of thirteen zombies at this point, and Wonwoo distantly remembered Seungcheol once joking about not debuting because of all the sweat and fatigue. Was it too late now? It takes him a while to float back into the present moment. “I know, but it’s not fine. We shouldn’t be taking it out on each other. I’m sorry I’ve been so cold to you recently.” 

“This probably isn’t what you want to hear, but frankly, I’ve been too tired to notice,” Junhui confesses. 

Wonwoo shifts a little, so he can slip his hand along Junhui’s thigh, feeling more attached to the world with each centimetre. He uses his hand to cradle his own head against the boniness of Junhui’s knee and closes his eyes. 

Junhui doesn’t make any attempt to touch him, instead resting his weight backward on the palms of his hands. It’s good, because Wonwoo doesn’t know how he’d react to being touched right now, whether he’d flinch away, or lean into it and immediately fall asleep.

Wonwoo clenches and unclenches his fist. It’s times like these that normally Junhui would push someone too far because things got too close to the heart, or wasn’t astute to pick up on the fact that it was time to draw the line. But Wonwoo had been quietly murmuring to him for weeks about boundaries. Junhui wasn’t really good at reading other people, but he had come to be really good at reading Wonwoo and became much gentler with his physical actions whenever Wonwoo started projecting docility. 

This was what learning to communicate was like, right?

He takes a deep breath. No bluffing. “I think I wasn’t going to say anything to that and pretend to fall asleep, but if I’m being honest about everything, I have to say I’m kind of hurt by that,” Wonwoo mumbles.

“I didn’t say it to intentionally hurt you, but it seemed better to tell you the truth than pretend otherwise,” Junhui replies.

Wonwoo turns onto his back, so he can look up at Junhui’s jaw. “Yeah, I can appreciate that. Mingyu once told me that I tend to keep a poker face when I’m upset about anything so others don’t worry about me. I guess this is me saying I want you to worry about me.”

Junhui’s quiet for a long time, and Wonwoo almost wonders if he’s fallen asleep. But after a brief wait, Junhui runs his fingers through Wonwoo’s hair, reassuring him of his presence. Wonwoo suddenly realizes he’s just needed to be held onto. He wishes now that he had sought him out earlier. 

“I’m sorry too, I should have paid more attention. I’m always worried I’ll…suffocate you,” Junhui says quietly. “You’ve said it yourself, I can get pretty overbearing on a day to day basis, even before I start caring too much about something.” 

“This is me giving you permission?” Wonwoo smiles faintly. 

“I don’t think I’m saying what I mean,” Junhui admits. 

Wonwoo knows. He knows because he’s been concerned about the same thing ever since that weird Tuesday night in Jihoon’s studio and the deck of cards. “I’m not going to leave you. I mean, first of all it’s physically impossible to avoid someone here but…it’s okay to make mistakes, I think. We’ll work on things together. I won’t let you. Besides, you won’t suffocate me, because who else is gonna give you such great head?” 

Junhui laughs. “Okay.” He sounds relieved, but Wonwoo hadn’t noticed how tense he was beforehand. Wow, he was tired. “Can we go to sleep now?” 

“Yes, but there’s a pillow right here, stop snoring against the wall and help me grab that blanket.” 

***

“Holy fuck.” The words tumble out of Wonwoo’s mouth without conscious processing, a knee-jerk reaction to the display in front of him.

When Junhui told him to meet him here tonight, Wonwoo had an idea of what would happen. But nothing could have readied him for this.

He squats down after closing the door and locking it behind him. “Is it July? Did I forget it was my birthday?” he murmurs, stroking Junhui’s cheek with the back of his hand.

Junhui quivers like a taut wire being plucked when Wonwoo touches him, voice singing out like a guitar string. The reaction makes Wonwoo wonder how long he’s been preparing. Junhui’s clearly been planning, because God help them all if someone else found him like this, naked on his back, with all the fingers of his right hand in his ass and cock half-hard.

“Come closer,” Junhui instructs, voice tiny but calm.

Without question, Wonwoo obeys, feet shuffling over while still his legs are still holding a squat position. Junhui reaches up and presses his free hand against the one Wonwoo wears his ring on. Wonwoo intertwines their fingers, holding his hand there tightly, but Junhui tugs away, spreading his palm apart to gage the length and width of Wonwoo’s fingers.

With a satisfied nod at the size of Wonwoo’s carpals, Junhui pronounces in a voice barely considered calm, “Good. Your hand’s smaller than mine, which is what I thought.” His muscles clench and unclench around his own hand as he breathes, voice catching only a little when he continues, “I’m pretty sure you could get your entire fist in me.” 

Without being touched at all, with no sensation other than hearing those words, Wonwoo is left absolutely wrecked. He exhales sharply through his nose as his heart pounds out of his chest. 

“Are you sure?” He swallows dryly. “That’s…a lot.” A lot of fingers, a lot of hand, a lot of intimacy. 

Junhui tilts his head very slightly to indicate the lube to the side. “Yes,” he says, voice squeaky. It’s belied by his gaze, which is steady and sure, and Wonwoo lingers on it until he feels as raw and exposed as Junhui’s ass. 

He sits and removes his sweater, taking off each article of clothing so as to not leave Junhui alone in his naked state. Junhui doesn’t take his eyes off him, and his hand is moving in small circles slowly in and out of his ass. He looks determined, rather than scared, and Wonwoo kisses away any spots of insecurity with all the fondness in his heart. Maybe Junhui hadn’t meant it to be one, but this was definitely a present to him, an offering of complete faith that Wonwoo only now realizes he’s always desired from others. He cherishes it, revels in it, starting slowly by scooping up lube and rubbing the smooth skin just above Junhui’s anus, warming it as Junhui’s hand slowly worked its way out. 

Wonwoo replaces Junhui's with a single finger of his own, which Junhui’s muscles don’t clench around. Junhui remains relaxed with the gentle petting on his thigh by Wonwoo’s other hand. Wonwoo crooks his index finger upward, feeling for a bump. The sign that he’s found it comes from hearing from Junhui’s cry of pleasure before his own tactile senses allow him to realize. He strokes slowly, smoothly, teasing out the full body tremors from Junhui with each brush. 

It isn't until Junhui whines at him that he slips in another finger, not for a moment stopping the gentle rubbing motions with the finger already inside. Now there’s two fingers coaxing the groans out of Junhui, and the sparks Wonwoo feels from those soft noises makes him wonder whether he himself can last much longer. 

The third finger enters readily as well, and Wonwoo guides all three in and out of Junhui’s ass with more confidence. He never completely removes his fingers, keeping his pushes small and careful, focusing on Junhui’s prostate as best he can with one finger, while using the others to keep his sphincters warm and loose. 

“Can you turn over?” Wonwoo asks gently, still massaging as he dips a fourth finger in, finally meeting some resistance even with Junhui’s preparation. He pats Junhui’s hip with affection.

Junhui whimpers when Wonwoo slowly removes his hand, feeling bereft, but rolls over onto his hands and knees.

“The angle is better,” Wonwoo says in a comforting lilt, four fingers and a thumb pushing inward again slow and steady. “But let me know if you want to change.”

Junhui’s head droops down and he presses backward with his ass. He’s hungry for it, and Wonwoo isn’t the type of guy to deny a starving man. He doesn’t change the pace of his touches against Junhui’s prostate, but he’s had to change the angle a little bit, and he stays put a little more now, touching more each time. Junhui’s moans have lost any consonant sounds, and are simply open throaty vowels drawn out of him in time with the actions of Wonwoo’s fingertips. 

“Still okay?” 

“Don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop,” Junhui cries hoarsely, voice barely above a whisper.

A smear of lube drips off Wonwoo’s hand. It allows him to finally ease the widest part of his palm inside, gliding forward as Junhui eagerly guides Wonwoo’s fingers into him. Junhui’s breath hitches and he keens quietly while rocking back and forth with gentle movements. The muscles around the thinnest part of his wrist pull, and Wonwoo is entranced, too amazed to do anything other than to continue petting the outside of Junhui’s thigh.

Wonwoo leans forward, presses a soft kiss to the small of Junhui’s back. Junhui’s hand darts out, and Wonwoo stops petting him to hold his hand, using his thumb to rub soothing circles against the skin instead. He takes his time twisting the hand inside Junhui’s ass, in search of the best position, knowing he’s gotten there when Junhui writhes all over. 

But Wonwoo is greedy, and he reaches for more of those signs by sliding his hand back out before easing back in again. He lets Junhui control the tempo with his thighs, more than happy to simply hook a finger downward, and rotate his wrist as necessary. He's rewarded with a pretty melody of groans.

Like this he can really feel Junhui, all of him, tightly surrounding his hand, with an equally vice-like grip around his heart. He wonders how Junhui feels, how it would be to have someone’s entire hand inside your ass, and if Junhui feels Wonwoo’s adoration filling any small gaps that remain. 

“Is it good?” Wonwoo asks, voice hushed. 

Junhui shouts something incomprehensible at him, speech interspersed with huffs. His hips buck erratically a few times. Wonwoo notes the strain in Junhui’s muscles, pulled taught everywhere except his asshole, the shaking, and the speed and sound of his moaning. The moaning that is going straight to Wonwoo’s cock. 

“Mm mmmm mm, clo-o-o—” Junhui stutters out. 

Wonwoo bends forward again and whispers into Junhui’s skin, “Then come for me.” 

Junhui’s climax lasts longer than Wonwoo expects, spurts of come covering the wooden floorboards. Wonwoo removes his hand with some effort, cleaning up while Junhui shivers. He recovers fast, exceeding Wonwoo's expectations again. His voice is still scratchy when he begs, “Fuck me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t need to be asked twice. He fumbles on a condom, more lube, and slides into Junhui with little difficulty. He reaches down to pump Junhui’s cock, fingers sure with experience. It’s been long enough that he knows what Junhui likes now, can draw out the cute mewls with a twist here, heavy panting with a pull there, and the most luxurious moans by touching the right spot. 

He’s careful when he fucks him, however, conscious of the fact that Junhui’s probably feeling tender. The hand on Junhui’s dick works quickly, efficiently, both as a distraction and as a way of speeding up Junhui’s orgasm because Wonwoo has been on the brink for quite a while. 

There’s an insistent tapping on his hand, the one holding Junhui’s hip and Wonwoo forces himself to stop quickly.

“I need to see your face,” Junhui pants. His hair falls into his face, and Wonwoo pulls out, rolls him over, and reaches over to tuck it back behind his ears. 

Seeing Junhui’s lack of control over his expressions makes him tremble, makes him lose the rhythm and control of his own thrusts. It becomes a race from there, Wonwoo’s fingers wrapped around the dick between them, trying to see if he can get Junhui over the edge faster than the clenching of Junhui’s ass around his cock can get him there. In truth, he doesn’t know who comes first, can only remember feeling like the clouds had parted and collapsing on top of Junhui when he was spent so their chests would heave together. 

Wonwoo thinks, he doesn’t just _like_ Junhui. Seeing him this way, spread open and vulnerable, eyes lidded, and expression entirely trusting of him...Wonwoo thinks he probably loves him. He’s probably _in_ love with him. 

“Did that hurt?” Wonwoo asks when he’s finally caught his breath. 

“Yeah, but a good hurt.” Junhui stretches out, cat-like, energy spent. The exhaustion makes him ramble. “You know like when we’ve practiced for a really long time before the choreo gets approved and all of your muscles are aching but you feel like you’ve accomplished something so it’s satisfying? Like that.” His words are slurred as Wonwoo pets his hair. 

In a game of cards you can gamble away your money, your clothes, or even your house. The flip, of course, is that someone gains your money, your clothes, your house. It doesn’t matter, because the world no longer has a wager to offer Junhui or Wonwoo that’s better than what they’ve already won: each other’s hearts.


End file.
